lowed, still speaking as of a man who had finished his allotment of troubles in this life.
"Yes; the same as every man."
"But they was further apart than onl's eyes, Ed. If they'd 'a' been feathers, he'd 'a' been a mighty cold bird."
"I expect he'll need all the good that can be figured for him, the same as you and me."
"Yes, but the Poet Lariat may let him down easy, seein' he was drove by the devil so long. Maybe I can make up a little poertry on him. If I can I'll lay it on his grave like a posy of flowers. Maybe it'd help him out a little."
"They say every good thought helps a man, living or dead. But I don't know; you can search me, Fred."
Fred saved further comment on the mercies which Hal Nearing might stand in need of, whatever his situation might be at that hour. He lapsed into a long silence, from which he started abruptly to inquire:
"What made you rush off so sudden the other night?"
"Rush off?"
"After the shootin' at the ranch. I looked to see you stay a little while and comfort Alma, and pat her hand."
"I haven't got any more right to pat her hand than you have!"
"You ain't?" Fred looked at him in blank surprise, which quickly softened into knowing incredulity. "Who has?"
"You can search me."
